Limburger
by LoquaciousChap
Summary: From Charlie Chaplin to Buster Keaton, line up to get a dose of horribly written stories based on a small minority of famous comedians. Some stories short, some stories long, some stories senseless with bad interpretations of how the certain person would act. So, beware.
1. Soaked (Charlie Chaplin)

The day was gloomy for the sky was dark with clouds. You were currently washing the windows, scrubbing each pane free from the years of grime and buildup. Once the window was clean, you could see it was beginning to rain. You leaned against the window, stuffing the dirty rag into the pocket of your apron.

"Oh boy. Now business is apt is slow down." You mumbled to yourself. As if on cue, a shocking strike of lighting came before your eyes, followed by a loud crash of thunder. You jumped, backing up from the window. Turning on your heel, with an angered stomp you made your way to the employee's room. You were the only employee working today. John couldn't come because of the weather. And your Great Uncle, who owned the place, was ill in the soldier's home. It was only the three of you who kept up with the dusty place. Your Uncle usually checked people out, John usually helped customers or moved heavy equipment, and you usually kept the market clean. Luckily, the day was slow due to the weather. Only three people had stopped by in the last few hours you have been at work. While two of them bought something, one, who was a friend of yours, stopped by to see how you were doing.

You were spending your time cleaning up things that had been needing it. As you strolled through the door frame, you realized your hands were nearly black with dirt and smelled of strong ammonia. You wrinkled your nose, turning to the bathroom to wash your hands. While you were doing so, you overheard the bell, that hung on the doorknob of the entrance, ring over the running water. You quickly turned the water off, drying your hands on your dirty, white apron. You rushed to the main room, a fake smile on your face as you did so.

"Hello, welcome to Paris Flea Market, how can I-" You stopped your sentence when you realized the man before you were soaked. Rainwater dripped from his sleeves, hat, and pants as he looked up at you innocently.

"Hello." A clear British accent came from the tiny man before you. His voice was slightly high, but not high enough to sound feminine.

"Oh dear. You're soaked. Sir, you're going to be sick!" You rushed up to him, your heels clonking against the wooden floor.

The man was pale with hypnotizing blue eyes. He was maybe an inch taller than you and looked to weigh no more than a feather. Being quite the small man, he wore pants and shoes a few sizes bigger. He clenched the rim of his pants, having to keep them up from the heaviness the rain caused. He wore a black bowler hat on top, which you took off with care and sat on the glass counter beside you. Most people in town were friendly and social. You had come to know many people. You recognized people for faces, and- only sometimes- names. Oddly, you did not remember this man.

He looked like any average brute of a tramp, but his voice was too gentle. His eyes were full purity, but, his soul was full of sin, coated with peace and tranquility. He looked up at you, shivering from the cold. You quickly gathered your thoughts, gently taking his cold hand.

"Please. Follow. There's a fireplace in the back room." You said, smiling warmly. His mouth opened slightly but shut as soon as you began leading him to the employee's room. As you two entered the room, you realized how dirty it was. Since you had been working on other parts of the building, you left the employee's room untidy and dusty. The room was in no shape for anyone other than the employee's themselves.

"I'm sorry about the mess of a room." You quickly apologized. You heard the man mutter shyly under his breath a simple "It's alright."

You beckoned for him to take a seat on one of the pillows sitting in front of the fireplace. He obliged happily. You then turned to light the open hearth. After doing so, you stood up straight and clasped your hands together.

"Sir, may I ask what size clothes you wear? It is utmost urgent to get you of those wet ones." You questioned, genuine concern lacing your tone. He simply shrugged. The man was beginning to shiver more and more which made you worry. You took a quick look over him, his curious eyes watching you all the while. You stuck your index finger up in the air, emitting a slight "Ah!" as an idea popped in your head.

"W-what?" He stuttered, scooting closer to the fireplace.

"I'll be right back." You quickly said, turning on your heel and rushing to the main store. You ran to the men's clothing, quickly grabbing out a warm suit of clothing. You had in hand a pair of black pants that were slightly smaller than the ones he was wearing as well as a dark blue and red knitted sweater. You quickly sorted out a pair of socks from one of the shelves. Deciding to hunt for shoes later, you made your way back to the employee's room, handing the man the clothes.

"The bathroom is right there." You said while pointing down the short hall. "Please do go change."

The tramp stared at you, hesitantly taking the clothes and standing up. He began to walk to the bathroom, as he shut the door, he gave you one more glance.

This man sure was skeptical of your actions. The last person you met a lot like him was an abused woman. Scared, suspicious, and lost. This man had not been from the town. Newcomers often were treated like human refuse, explained your Great Uncle. You never cared for the majority of the people in town, even if you knew them all.

You bent down, picking up the wet pillow and letting a puff of air out. You took a towel and dried up the trail of water droplets the man had left from his soaked clothes. You sat a dry pillow back in the same place as the wet one was with a blanket beside it. You left the room once again, deciding to finish tidying up the main room. It was merely a few minutes later when you were polishing a coffee table in the furniture room. The thunder was still roaring outside, as well as the rain was pouring. Without you noticing, the man from before stepped into the room, leaning against the nearest dresser while watching you. You looked up at him and smiled politely. The clothes you had given him fit neatly. They weren't as loose as the others he wore were. The only thing off was his lack of shoes.

"Glad the clothes fit, mister! How about we get you some shoes?" You questioned, stuffing the oily rag into your apron's pocket. He looked down at his feet and wiggled his toes, looking back up at you through his lashes.

"I take that as a yes." You voiced, clapping your hands together. You walked past him, sharing glances all the while.

"Come. Come!" You beckoned. He followed behind you quietly and slowly. You scanned through the aisle of shoes, picking a perfect pair of oxfords for him.

You gave him the shoes with a grin plastered on your face.

"You must try these, sir. I'm not sure if the size is right, but it looks accurate enough. You'd look nice in them." You chirped. He took the shoes, his hands shaking as he did so.

In the employee's room, the phone began to ring. You raised your brows, an expression of annoyance covering your face.

"That thing has rung about fifty-thousand times today." You complained, earning a laugh from the small man before you.

"Let me go answer it. Try those shoes on while I'm gone, y'hear." You said. He nodded. You turned on your heel, rushing to the employee's room. The oblivious man took a seat on the small white chair near the shoe area, untying them and slipping them on with ease. As he did so, he overheard your conversation.

"Ah! Yes, I am at work, Uncle."

"Oh goodness no! It wasn't storming when I got here."

"Awah, well, a poor guy who was out in the weather walked in soaked. I gave him some of the spare, old clothes. I hope you don't mind."

"Ah, that's great! Thank you. You're the best. Love you! Bye-bye."

You hung the phone up, sighing. It was good to hear from your Great Uncle after worrying about him for so long. You stood up from the chair and went to walk out, but before you stood the wee man. You shrieked, covering your mouth in shock. You slowly brought your hand back down to your side in realization.

"Oh. Don't scare me like that." You scowled. Then you noticed his shoes. They fit him perfectly. You gasped, smiling.

"They fit! Lovely." You chimed.

He raised his brows, his expression of shame. You looked up at him, tilting your head slightly.

"I haven't any money, you know." He mumbled, stuffing his hands into his pockets. You shook your head and patted his shoulder.

"Don't you worry about that!" You said, leading him over to the fireplace. "You just worry about getting warm."

He took his place on the floor, patting the space beside himself, beckoning for you to sit with him.

"Oh, I'm afraid I can't. I have so many chores I must attend to." You rejected sweetly.

"Please?" He questioned, patting the floor again. You sighed.

"Well, if you insist." You uttered, taking your place beside him.

"You're a lovely kiddie... And I don't even know your name." He mumbled, smiling at you.

"Beatrice. My name's Beatrice. But, if you'll become a regular, you can call me Bummy." You responded, turning towards him and tilting your head in patience.

"Well, Bummy, I'm Charlie. Your new regular customer, and your new admirer."


	2. Fair (Buster Keaton)

Night had fallen for the stars and moon was shining brightly in the void-like sky. In the dark sky was a few cold clouds, but not enough to ruin the appearance of the glimmering balls of fire above. You weren't tired, but instead, bored. You leaned against the door on the passenger side, letting out a sigh. You could feel the sharp stare from the man beside you, but you decided not to make eye contact.

The man that sat behind the wheel, even though he was often a frightening driver, he was a man who had stolen your heart - yet, didn't know it - and drowned your feelings in all his glory. Out of all the riches in the world, you were the richest just to be sitting beside Buster was silly, handsome, and charming all in one. His talents were neverending, his voice was divine, his actions never had consequences, and he could wake up looking perfect - even with a hangover! Buster had stolen your heart, made your brain scrambled, and your body trembling just by a simple grin. He meant the world and more to you, even though, you hadn't any idea what he thought of you. He flirted with you more times than you could count, but then he would nudge you around as if you were a little sister or a long-lost friend. He confused you AND your feelings. You cleared your throat softly and rubbed your upper arm, continuing to keep your gaze out the small window. You heard Buster inhale to say something, yet he paused for a moment as if in deep thought.

"Hey, I know this trip is pretty far, but, lighten up, will ya'? Besides, I believe I see lights up ahead," Buster said. His voice was soft on the harsh silence, which brought indefinable amounts of joy to your ears. You looked over at him, smiling sheepishly.

"Lighten up? Why my legs are numb, Buster!" You spoke softly, proving to him you were nearly incapable of moving your legs. He pursed his lips together, having nothing to say in response. So far, you had found out, the only pleasant spot to be in a car is on top of a masculine man named Buster in the backseat. Quite fortunately, the two of you had been sleeping like that. What a way to drive you even closer to someone! As you two neared the town, bright lights and crowds of people came into view. But, that wasn't the exciting part. A Ferris wheel that stood over 100 feet high was spinning calmly as other various rides were full of shouting ladies.

"Won't you look at that?" Buster asked, eyeing the extraordinary scenery. Your mouth was slightly agape before both of your hands clasped onto Buster's upper arm. You leaned your head against his shoulder, eyeing him dreamily.

"Have I ever told you how much I adore you?" You questioned, blinking momentarily. Buster chuckled.

"I'll find a park." He said, catching onto your drift. You pulled away from him, clapping your hands together, a silent squeal escaping your lips.

"Thank you!" You squealed. You were in pure delight that Buster was kind enough to stop. Of course, he would probably enjoy frolicking around the fair too. When the car was parked, you swung the door open, jumping out and running to Buster. You wrapped your arms around him in a tight embrace and kissed his cheek. He stayed still for a moment but soon returned the hug with a sheepish chuckle. You took his large hand with your small one, dragging him along to the ticket booth. You came to a halt in front of the ticket booth, looking up at the man that sat inside.

"How much would six tickets cost?" You asked, fishing your wallet out of your skirt pocket. Buster gently pushed you aside and took out his wallet. You twisted your lips and eyed him angrily. Deciding not to argue, you stuffed your wallet back into your skirt.

"Thirty cents." The ticket man replied. Buster nodded, taking out three dimes and handing them to the man. The man bent down, grabbing out six tickets, and giving them to Buster. Buster quickly thanked the man, then handing you three of the tickets. You took the tickets gladly, grabbing his hand once again, and dragging him along the strip of various rides and games. As you two neared the milk can game, Buster looked down at you.

"Want a stuffed toy?" He questioned, pulling one of the tickets out of his pocket.

"You'd do that for me?" You said in awe, holding your hands together. He nodded, bringing you over to the game. He slid one of the tickets across the counter to the manager, who gave him a few sports balls. Buster bent down in a readied stance, holding his arm back, and making sure not to hit anyone in the process. You inched away slightly, giggling. Buster swung his arm forward, the first sports ball perfectly hitting the milk cans and knocking all of them down. You raised your brows and pursed your lips.

"Not too shabby." You commented, grinning ever so slightly. He went to throw another sports ball, to win a bigger stuffed toy for you, but you quickly stopped him.

"Don't get too carried away now, I don't want one bigger than I can carry." You said. Buster stared at you for a split second, before standing straight and handing the extra two sports ball back to the handler of the game.

"Don't need those two," he spoke. "The love just wants a small one."

You, being oblivious, shrugged off the fact that he had just called you "Love." Maybe you shouldn't have, but you did. And if you didn't, you would've turned into a tomato, undoubtfully. Buster reached up, grabbing one of the small stuffed teddy bears and handing it to you. You took it with pride.

"Thank you!" You chirped, hugging him. He returned the hug, patting your back.

"Can we go on the Ferris wheel now?" You questioned with hopeful eyes. Buster looked up at the tall, lighted Ferris wheel and shrugged.

"Looks fun. Unless you're scared of heights." He teased, tapping your shoulder. You shook your head, grabbing his hand once again.

You were having fun and were completely unknown to the fact that every time you held his hand, he shivered slightly, and would sometimes even smile. Friends do that, do they not? You calmly walked over to the Ferris wheel, handing the handler two tickets. Buster went to grab himself one, but you put your hand up to stop him.

"You spent yours on that toy of mine, so I'll get this." You said, tipping your head. You two took your seats in one of the large booths, sitting beside each other. As the ride started, you latched onto his arm and took a deep breath.

"You're afraid of heights." He pointed out, pulling you closer. You huffed, rolling your eyes.

"I am not." You argued. But, instead of pulling away from him, you leaned into him, sighing softly. You felt comfortable as he rubbed circles into your upper arm. You had never felt any happier. Maybe the whole "Going to the other side of the universe for a single film that'll only make a small amount of dough" was worth it. Maybe both you and Buster deserved this time together.

Maybe you two spending time together would bring you both closer, and maybe your future will be bright, with an incredible lover. Or maybe you're over-thinking the entire thoughts were quickly interrupted by Buster clearing his throat. You blinked, looking up at him, grinning, then looking back at your surroundings. You were now stopped on the top, the beautiful view rendering you breathless.

"This town is certainly beautiful." You commented, staring in awe at the scene of a thousand lights, small buildings, and trees

"You can get a scene more beautiful than this by looking in the mirror." He said, staring into the distance of the town. Your eyes widened as you blushed and turned your head down.

\- After a few hours of riding fair rides and having silly fun, it had grown darker, as your stomach had grown hungrier. You and Buster had stopped at one of the booths to get a funnel cake and lemonades. You two had decided to split the funnel cake since neither of you would be able to eat one alone. The two of you were sitting on the curb, free from the crowd. Not too far from where you sat was a bandstand. Soft 1920s jazz played as women and men dances around. You would have got up to dance, but as your feet were killing you, you couldn't take the chance to make a fool of yourself. Buster had brought up the conversation topic of where to stay tonight, for you weren't going to let him drive in the dark, though he tried persuading you.

"I refuse to let you drive in the dark, Buster. You almost gave me a heart attack last night." You said blankly, stuffing a piece of funnel cake into your mouth. Buster grinned slightly, taking a sip of his drink and turning to you.

"But, you didn't have a heart attack," he pointed out. "Therefore, fair and square, my driving isn't that bad." You inhaled. "If I have to drive, I will." You said flatly, poking your chest out superiorly. Buster laughed, looking up at you with a crooked toothy grin.

"Come on! You'll kill us both- and bystanders!" He exclaimed, putting his hand up. You laugh, mumbling; "I'm not that bad" Under your breath. Without you noticing, Buster had scooted closer to you, nearly too close. Normally, he minded personal space, but when you turned your head, the both of you was nose-to-nose. You gasped softly, your face turning red quickly.

"Tonight's been fun, yeah?" Buster asked, his eyes half-lidded and his voice darker than before.

"Y-yeah?" You answered, stuttering and blushing like a mad man.

"Well, babe, how about we seal it with a kiss?" He questioned, his brown orbs staring into your own colorful ones. You gulped. This was your time, and you were too embarrassed to take the chances. Luckily, Buster understood your body language well enough to lean in and seal the yearning kiss. You obliviously gasped into the kiss, closing your eyes and kissing back. He placed his hand on the small of your back, pulling you closer- only for you to push him away.

"There're kids around, Keaton!" You whisper-yelled. Buster chuckled half-heartedly, eyeing his surroundings, then turning his attention back to you.

"I was thinking about booking a hotel anyways," Buster said, patting your thigh. Your eyes widened and your face turned red.

"Wait, tonight? Here? Don't get any naughty ideas you rascal." You uttered, pointing your index finger at him.

"Come on, you like it." He purred. You sighed helplessly.

"I do and I hate_ IT_, but love _YOU_." You replied, kissing his nose.

"I love you too, sweets."

_He... Loved you._


End file.
